Summer on Main Street Read online

  “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.” Bubba shook his head as though he pitied him and pointed to the shiny new F150 nearby. “You can follow me back to the house.”

  Bubba and Lisa had reversed the way things were traditionally done, choosing to build their house first and then get married. The Grant family owned a stretch of land along the lake outside of town, and it wasn’t long before Hunter was turning off the main highway onto a gravel road through a thick forest of pine trees. It came to an end beside a cozy white cottage-style home with green shutters, a wide wraparound porch, and perfect views of the sparkling water.

  Hunter climbed out of his Durango and let out a whistle. “Nice place.”

  Bubba’s chest rose with pride. “Yeah, we’re kind of partial to it. But let’s get out of this heat and start catching up.”

  The inside was just as laid back and welcoming as the exterior. Hunter plopped down on the leather couch and took the frosty bottle that Bubba brought in from the kitchen. Two beers later, long shadows stretched across the room from the late afternoon sun, and Bubba turned the conversation to the one thing Hunter didn’t want to talk about.

  “So, coming back to Chelsea—”

  “Don’t get your hopes up.” Hunter finished off his bottle and stood up. “Ready for the next round?”

  “Always, but you’re not getting out of this that easily.”

  He bit back a groan of frustration and grabbed two more beers from the fridge. Might as well let Bubba have his fun now before the wedding. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  “I meant what I said about daring you to have a real conversation with her.”

  “Why? You heard what she said on graduation night.”

  Bubba laughed. “I think the whole frat house heard her chewing you out, but you picking her up and dumping her into the pool was probably the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. The look on her face was classic.”

  “Yeah, well, it still doesn’t change the fact that she hates me.” The string of insults still lingered in the back of his mind. Snob. Asshole. Conceited prick. Throwing her into the pool just sealed the deal. “We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t try to get back at me for that.”

  “It’s been four years.”

  “She hasn’t forgotten.” And neither had he. He’d spent most of graduation night working up the guts to tell her how he felt about her, but when she’d gone off on him, he knew he had a snowball’s chance in hell of ever being with her. He’d thrown her into the pool to shut her up and save what was left of his pride.

  “I bet if you told her all you’ve done for her, she’d give you a chance.”

  “I doubt she’d believe me.” He slumped back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

  “Are you seeing someone?”

  “Not at the moment.” He’d dated other girls through college and med school, but none of them held a candle to Chelsea. They all lacked something.

  “Why not?”

  “Too busy moving to Durham.”

  “Which is conveniently located next to Raleigh, and we both know who lives there, especially since you were the one who got her that job.”

  His palms grew sweaty. Knowing she was in the next city over had played a part when it came to ranking his top residency choices, but it was sheer luck that he’d been matched into Duke’s orthopedics program. “She got the job on her own merit. All I did was give her name to the right people.”

  “And if you mean by right people, your uncle—”

  “Enough.” Hunter bolted up from the couch, bottle still in hand. “I have a better chance of winning the Nobel Prize in Medicine than I do with her, so drop it.”

  Bubba stayed where he was, eyes cast down, vision focused on the bottle of Bud in his hands. “I still think you’re selling yourself short.” He took a long swig and continued in the same solemn voice, “But if you don’t have the balls to let her know how you feel, it’s due to one of two things. Either you aren’t as crazy about her as you claimed to be, or you’re just too chicken to deserve a girl like her.”

  “Neither. I just know a lost cause when I see it.”

  The slamming of a car door prevented him from saying more.

  Lisa and Chelsea came into the house with long white garment bags draped over their arms and smiles on their faces. Lisa’s widened when Bubba got up to give her a kiss, but Chelsea had the exact opposite reaction when she saw Hunter.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice cautious and tight.

  His heart hammered in his chest, and the all-too-familiar sick sensation swirled in his stomach. Her cold blue eyes cut through him like a scalpel and revived the same twinge in his chest he’d felt the moment he met her. His anxiety battled with the desire to taste those shiny pink lips and discover what flavor her lip gloss was. Eight years may have passed since they first met, but she still managed to tie him up in knots.

  “He’s staying in the other guest room,” Lisa answered. “No sense making him stay in a hotel when we have space, after all.”

  Chelsea’s gaze drifted to the door, and for a moment, he had the sinking suspicion she was going to opt for staying in town just so she wouldn’t have to be near him. Instead, she placed her hand on Lisa’s shoulder and jerked her head to the back of the house. “I’m going to hang these up so they don’t get wrinkled.”

  She took Lisa’s bag and disappeared down the hallway.

  He didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until it escaped with a giant whoosh.

  Bubba cocked a brow in a wordless challenge. “So what’s it going to be?”

  He nodded toward the direction Chelsea had gone. “You already have your answer.”

  “Are you two boys talking about Chelsea?”

  “We’re men, not boys,” Bubba replied before planting another kiss on his fiancée.

  She giggled and gave him a playful jab with her elbow. “Could’ve fooled me,” she teased back before dissolving into laughter when he caught her and tickled her along her ribs.

  Hunter watched them with a jolt of envy. He wanted what they had. Someone who’d laugh with him at the end of the day. Someone whose face lit up when he entered the room. Someone to love and who loved him in return.

  And he’d already crossed Chelsea off that list years ago.

  Chapter Two

  Chelsea held the clipboard with the to-do list she’d made last night in front of her and scanned the page for the next item. “Okay, let’s get started on the wedding favors. You said you’d ordered some organza bags, right?”

  Lisa pulled herself away from the private conversation with Bubba. “They’re in the shed. Two boxes about so big with the word ‘wedding’ on them.”

  Chelsea waited to see if Lisa would offer to join her, but when her friend seemed more interested in cuddling up next to her fiancé, she took a hint and left them alone in the kitchen. She’d get the boxes, and then Lisa would be forced to get started on the last-minute wedding preparations.

  At least there was one small silver lining to the day. Bubba was taking Hunter fishing, so she wouldn’t have to deal with his conceited ass until dinner time. And even then, the meal would be filled with tension, if last night was any indication. He’d hardly said three words to anyone, and as soon as they were done, he claimed to have a headache and went to his room, much to her relief.

  The June morning air was so muggy, she felt like she was swimming through the humidity as she crossed the lawn to the wooden shed on the edge of the yard. Her hair stuck to her face in damp strands by the time she reached the door, but when she got inside, her hands turned to ice.

  She wasn’t alone.

  Hunter stared at her from a few feet away, the fishing rod frozen in his hands. He remained statue still when the spring-mounted door slammed shut behind her and made her jump.

  Shit!

  For a few seconds, neither of them moved.

  Oh get over it. The sooner you get those boxes, the so
oner you can get away from him and back in the air-conditioned house.

  Of course, it didn’t help that he was nice to look at. His T-shirt clung to his arms and chest, outlining the perfectly sculpted muscles underneath. As her gaze traveled up, she took note of the firm chin, strong jaw, and lips that would be perfect to nibble on in between kisses. But when she reached those unflinching green eyes, she remembered who he was and turned away.

  “Lisa sent me to find a couple of boxes.”

  He jerked his thumb behind him in reply and went back to fiddling with the fishing rod.

  How rude! He could’ve at least told me where they were. Or even offered to help.

  A massive riding lawn mower blocked the opposite path to the back of the shed, so she was forced to squeeze past him. She was so focused on trying not to touch him that she tripped over the mower’s wide tires and stumbled into him.

  A pair of strong arms caught her and kept her from landing face first on the cement floor. A flush burned along her skin, but it wasn’t entirely from embarrassment. A new sense of awareness rushed through her that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Her mind screamed for her to get far away from him, but she found herself wanting to linger in the unexpected safety of his arms.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  The heat gathered in her cheeks, and she pushed him away. “Fine.”

  But her rattled breaths and pounding heart indicated that she was anything but fine. And when she finally got the nerve to look up at him, the worried expression on his face only added to her confusion.

  “You sure?”

  “Yep.” She forced a smile on her face and took a hesitant step back to make sure her knees wouldn’t give out on her. “Perfectly fine.”

  His brows drew together like she was some sort of puzzle he was trying to figure out, but at last he turned back to the fishing gear without another word.

  Just find the boxes and get out of here.

  She retreated to the wall of boxes along the back of the shed and searched for the ones Lisa wanted among the dozens labeled “Christmas Decorations.” But as her pulse slowed down, something about the encounter still unnerved her. If Hunter had truly hated her, he would’ve let her fall and maybe had a good laugh at her expense.

  Maybe it was just a reflex motion.

  She cast a sideways glance at him and found him watching her in the same indirect manner, and the same odd sense of awareness flustered her. Maybe there was more to him than what she’d first assumed.

  She knew better than to press the issue, though. The last time she’d called him out for his aloof behavior toward her, she ended up in the middle of a swimming pool.

  Chelsea returned to the boxes and finally found the ones she was looking for. It took some careful shimmying to remove them without causing an avalanche, but once she had them, she was ready to get far away from Hunter and the uncomfortable tension that always seemed to follow whenever she was near him.

  She grabbed the door handle to turn it, only to have the tarnished metal knob fall into her hand. The boxes dropped to ground with a thud. Panic tightened her throat.

  She was trapped with him.

  “Shit!”

  ***

  The solitary hissed curse caught Hunter’s attention, but he didn’t look up from the fishing pole he’d been playing with until Chelsea started rattling the door. “What’s wrong?”

  “The door broke.” She held up the knob.

  He got as close as he dared to inspect it. He still hadn’t fully recovered from her little trip earlier, and he wouldn’t hold himself responsible for his actions if her body ended up pressed against him again. For the brief moment he’d held her in his arms, he experienced the same rush of excitement and longing he’d known all through college. As much as he hated to admit it, Bubba was right. He still wasn’t over Chelsea Warner.

  “Piece of crap,” she muttered under her breath, and followed that by banging on the door. “Bubba, Lisa, help!”

  He studied the knob from every angle, and the hair on his arms rose when he realized it was perfectly fine. All someone had done was loosen the screw holding it together.

  Chelsea’s cries for help grew louder and reached the point where they grated on his ears.

  “Shut up already!”

  She whirled around, her face pale with shock. “We have to get out of here. I don’t like enclosed spaces, especially knowing you’re here.”

  Ouch. His pride recoiled, but he forced himself to remain calm. “The house is too far away. We’re better off calling them.”

  He pulled out his phone and dialed Bubba’s number. “Hey, the doorknob broke on the shed, and it won’t open.”

  “I know,” Bubba replied, his voice shaking with laughter. “Who do you think loosened the screw?” He paused, and Hunter swore he could hear Lisa giggling in the background. “I’m giving you three minutes to make your move, Romeo.”

  The line clicked dead, and Hunter held out his phone, wondering if he’d dreamed up that conversation. Three minutes? Dear God, they were back to playing the same juvenile games from the frat house. Only this time, he wasn’t locked in a closet with some half-drunk girl who was more than willing to engage in a make-out session. He was trapped with Chelsea, and she was becoming more and more anxious with each passing second.

  She’d gone back to rattling the door and crying out for help, so he took her arm and pulled her away from the door. “Bubba said he was on his way, so calm down.”

  “I can’t.” Her shaky breaths grew closer and closer together, accentuating the fine tremor in her hands and lips. “I’m extremely claustrophobic, and it’s burning up in here, and you’re looking at me like I’m an idiot.”

  “Deep breaths, Chelsea, or you’re going to pass out.”

  “I’m trying, damn it!” But she continued to hyperventilate until her face turned ashen and her knees buckled under her.

  For the second time that day, he swooped in to catch her. The soft curves of her body reawakened his teenage desires. For years, he’d wondered what it would be like to kiss Chelsea, and before he could stop himself, he lowered his lips to hers. He told himself that he was only kissing her to distract her, to help her snap out of her panic attack. But the moment their lips touched, he was lost.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d expected a chorus of hallelujahs when that moment finally occurred, but her response caught him off guard. She stiffened, her hands pressed against his chest like she was about to push him away. He waited a few frantic beats of his heart to see if she would reject his advances. When nothing happened, he continued with the kiss, varying the pressure as he moved his lips against hers in a silent plea.

  Just as her resistance started to crumble, Bubba shouted from the other side of the door, “You two okay in there?”

  Chelsea’s body snapped to attention, and the shove he’d been waiting for landed squarely in the center of his chest. He released her, and she backed away with wide eyes until she reached the far wall.

  He grew sick to his stomach. In all the fantasies he’d harbored over the years about kissing her, he’d never pictured this response. He’d always imagined she’d kiss him back and beg for more until they were both tangled in the sheets and thoroughly exhausted. But the woman before him looked like she was ready to fight off a rapist.

  I knew I’d screw this up.

  He lowered his head and turned away. So much for his one shot with her.

  The remaining hardware on the other side of the door jiggled, and a few seconds later, the sweltering summer sunlight poured into the shed. Chelsea bolted for the exit and ran toward the house, leaving the boxes she’d come to fetch behind.

  “So, how did it go?” Bubba asked with both brows raised.

  Hunter picked up the boxes and shoved them into his friend’s arms. “Fuck you.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  He covered his wounded pride with a bandage of anger. “What the hell were you thinking?”

/>   “Just that line from Shakespeare. You know. ‘Some cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.’ ”

  “Well, keep your stupid traps to yourself.” He grabbed the fishing rod and the tackle box. “I’ll be on the boat.”

  God, I can’t believe I was so stupid. His steps thumped along the wooden dock, echoing the last word over and over again in his mind. Stupid, stupid, stupid. No doubt, Chelsea was telling Lisa all about how he’d assaulted her. He wouldn’t be surprised if she went to J.T. and filed charges against him.

  He threw the rod into the boat in disgust. Bubba had given him a chance with Chelsea, and he’d blown it.

  Chapter Three

  “Good evening, Sweetie Pie,” Bubba announced as he came into the house with a small cooler that smelled distinctly of fish. “Your Huggle Bear brought dinner.”

  Normally, Chelsea would’ve rolled her eyes at the cutesy names, but Bubba and Lisa used them more in a joking manner, accompanied with a heavy dose of sarcasm and a laugh.

  Lisa took the cooler from him and peeked inside. “You cleaned them up and everything. Thank you. Since you caught ’em, I’ll cook ’em.” She got up on her tiptoes and placed a peck on his cheek before taking the cooler into the kitchen.

  Bubba gave Chelsea a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that door breaking on you earlier today.”

  “It’s okay,” she said automatically, even though nothing could be further from the truth. That kiss had replayed in her mind throughout the day. One minute, she’d been caught in a full-blown panic attack and close to passing out. The next, she was in Hunter McLemore’s arms and being kissed. And what was even worse, she’d found herself enjoying it. Once the initial shock wore off, that is.

  But more than anything, she wanted to find out why he’d kissed her.

  “Where’s Hunter?” she asked.

  “Down at the boat, cleaning up the fish guts.” Bubba sniffed his shirt and wrinkled his nose. “Speaking of which, I’m overdue for a shower.” He disappeared down the hallway to his bedroom.